Chapter 27 – Denali Café
Von Kalt waited until he and Stanwood were in the car before making his case. “Sir, I’ve been informed of new developments you should know about.”
“What’s that,” Stanwood asked, looking out the window.
“Sir, this morning Missus Fox and children left the home on transport shuttles, with luggage.”
“You don’t say,” Stanwood mused. “Let me guess, our teams lost them in traffic?”
“The shuttles… Yes, sir.”
“Well, that makes Fox about the nearest you can get to a flight risk, don’t you think?”
“I do, sir,” Von Kalt agreed.
“Very well, Commander. You have a green light. But until we get paperwork, this is a completely ‘off the books’ operation. Do you understand me?”
“I do sir.” Von Kalt smiled.
“One more thing,” Stanwood said. “I want him transferred to the old NASA facility out at White Sands. I’m giving you strict instructions and a direct order, once you take him into custody; keep him sedated until you get there.
“Before you get there, have all the Terillium, hell, all metal, for a ten mile radius pulled out. That means no vehicles, no facilities, not even so much as a pen. If we’re going to take this seriously, there’s no sense in ignoring the number one threat. We’re talking about a guy who can detonate T256 with a thought.
“I would also recommend disabling the Doctor with some sort of airborne agent, maybe gas or something. Don’t try taking him by force, with guns, that would be a mistake. In fact, Director, I’ll be very impressed to see you again.”
Von Kalt blinked lazily and turned for the door.
“Oh, and finally,” Stanwood said. “Please take along a pair of gloves. No sense ending up like Pierce.”
Von Kalt turned to face his superior. “I’m telling you, Pierce pulled a flying squirrel. I bet a million dollars, he’s alive and well in Belize.”
“Just because you never found an impact point doesn’t make Pierce clever. His family certainly seems to believe he’s missing. If not, they are going to an awful lot of fuss, and losing their prominent position in the Republic, over what, a ruse?” Stanwood tapped his chin and stared at the ceiling. “No, it gains them nothing. If Pierce were alive and in possession of the Micronix, we would know about it, one way or the other.”
Stanwood glanced back to Von Kalt. “And you shouldn’t bet money you don’t have.”
Von Kalt exited the office as Stanwood leafed through the paperwork he’d been neglecting.
Monday Afternoon, July 6, 2308
Dr. Fox sat at an outdoor table at the busy cafe. The warm breeze smelled of rain, flowers and coffee. The people passing by had smiles and nods for each other, the goodwill that had started with the beautiful weather spread from one person to the next.
Fox blew across the top of his cup. He didn't recognize the tall man who approached his table. Fox himself was almost six foot, but the stranger was well over that. Obviously a federal agent, he was dressed in a sharp black suit, shirt and tie. Fox saw another across the patio and two more at the far entrance.
The first agent stepped to the side. Fox thought he recognized Deputy Director Von Kalt but failed to place him as Stanwood's aide. Then Von Kalt raised the gas gun. It resembled a regular pistol, except for the large canister-like barrel.
As Von Kalt raised the weapon, his agents raised respirators to their faces. Fox watched dark smoke billowing from the fat little pistol. The gas reached his mind and consciousness abandoned him.
Von Kalt gestured for his men to secure the area. As he knelt next to the unconscious Dr. Fox, he noticed the gas, heavier than air, growing denser at ground level. Von Kalt tightened the straps of his respirator and searched the doctor’s pockets.
Wearing blue surgical gloves, Von Kalt patted the man’s clothing and located the object he was looking for. He reached into Fox’s breast pocket and pulled out the prototype device.
Von Kalt stared at it. He knew what he was holding, the legendary interface - the single greatest item in all of mankind’s history. Was he up to the challenge? Was he worthy?
Crouched over Dr. Fox, his back to his subordinates, Von Kalt peeled the glove from his right hand.
When the device made contact, Rudolph felt a tingling sensation, as if everything got both warm and cold. The second thing he noticed was an utter absence of sound. The city had gone quiet.
He had heard the horror stories about what could go wrong during one’s initiation with the prototype. He’d heard that, in the successful cases, time often seemed to stop.
Conscious that his men were still behind him and aware that anything he did right now could give him away, Von Kalt remained still.
He held the device in his right hand, closed his eyes and concentrated. He focused his mind and waited. He knew, if he were worthy, the device would initialize and display the op-sys title.
A moment later the word METACHRON filled his mind’s eye.
That was enough. He smiled, pocketed the device and replaced his glove. Slowly, the city’s life returned. Von Kalt heard the sounds of traffic and pedestrians all around them.
He checked Fox’s pulse and pupils and stood. “He’s good to go. Get him out of here.”
Von Kalt’s men moved in and secured Dr. Fox. They strapped him to a gurney and loaded into the waiting transport.
The other patrons would wake feeling a bit nauseous and bloated, but the effects would wear off in an hour or so. In three hours, the compound would no longer even be detectable in their systems.